Handstands
by Jessa L'Rynn
Summary: Rose takes a tumble and the Doctor falls with her. Together, they fall farther.
1. Chapter 1

_The Enigma Variations was a piece of music based around a single, unknown, theme. Likewise, this collection of stories have the same theme, and each story is based closely on a song. The difference is that you know the theme; what you don't know is the song. The stories can come from anywhere, have any rating, any characters, any adventure. Feel free to try to guess the song; I'll be glad to tell you if you get it. Clues are embedded in the work. Also, feel free to suggest songs. I'll be glad to try them and see what happens. _

**

* * *

Handstands**  
_Part 1_

"Really, Doctor," said Rose, bubbling with laughter she could hardly contain, '"I'm completely serious about the gymnastics stuff."

They were walking hand in hand on the way back to the TARDIS from the Great Fair of Vardana V. This planet was soft and rich, with vivid grass as far as the eye could see, and an annual festival that took up half a continent. They'd lost Jack not ten minutes after arriving, and as near as Rose could tell, the Doctor was trying to catch up Jack's quota of teasing her.

She'd insisted that some troop of young gymnasts they'd stopped to watch were no more impressive than Jericho Street Junior School's troop, and this was what she got. Couldn't just have the assertion that these kids were better or worse, no chance. She got...

"An' I'm serious that your body's prob'ly changed a bit since under sevens," the Doctor countered, blue eyes sparkling brightly as he beamed down at her.

Rose looked down at her breasts, tilted her head to the side to consider her hips. Then she grinned up at her companion with her tongue in her teeth. "What're you tryin' to say, Doctor?" she asked. She stopped walking and posed herself carefully, arching her back a little to bring her chest into prominence, her free hand rested lightly on an outthrust hip.

It was too much fun to tease him; Rose just couldn't seem to help herself. He would get all stern and bluster and glower, or he could go all flustered and innocent. Either way, she delighted in it, though she much preferred the second. It seemed completely unbelievable that a man who looked forty and was 900 could manage any sort of innocence at all, and to Rose it made him completely beautiful. Either way, she loved it.

Of course, there was also the third option, one that had been happening more and more often, ever since Jack came on board (though Rose refused to allow herself to think the two were at all connected). The Doctor could give as good as he got, which was what he was doing right now. Rose wasn't used to this yet, but she thought she could quite get to like it if she could get over the not being able to breathe while he was doing it bit.

Merry and a little wicked, his blue eyes followed the path her own had so recently described. Rose found herself fighting off a shiver. His gaze seemed to have a physical weight as it lingered at her breasts, trailed languidly down to her hips, considered her thighs, and wandered leisurely back to meet her eyes again. Under this scrutiny, she could easily imagine his hands contemplating the same journey, calloused and cool but gentle against her heated skin. She forced away a burning blush, poured the heat of it into her smile and a shift in her stance that said, "Well?"

"Don't have to say anything, me," he murmured. One of these days, that dark Northern voice was going to reduce her to a puddle of screaming want at his feet and it was even odds if it would be on an occasion like this or if he would be reading aloud from a cereal box when it happened.

Sometimes Rose wondered if he knew what he did to her. Then, there would be incidents like this one, when his expression clearly said, "Your ball," that she wondered why he did this since he obviously did know. They were back to the game, she supposed, where they would try to see which one of them broke first, or if Jack would manage to teleport them away before it got interesting.

Rose didn't know where Jack had got off to just now and didn't particularly care, so long as he was no where near a teleport. She also had no idea what she said back to the Doctor, but he actually laughed, and the Doctor laughing was so brilliant that she completely lost any trace of whatever sense she had left. They bantered back and forth across the brilliant grass, while crowds and couples alike passed them by. Theoretically, they were discussing Rose's athletic prowess, but actually they were pretty much flirting like there was no tomorrow.

For once, it was Rose who broke, she supposed. Or maybe he broke and she still made an idiot of herself, she didn't know. All she knew was that she was trying with more difficulty than she remembered to do a cartwheel. All she got were grass stains on her jeans and quite a few bruises when she toppled awkwardly.

It worked on the third try, and the Doctor gave her mocking, half-hearted applause. She frowned indignantly and turned another one, stopping half-way through in a handstand.

The Doctor proclaimed, "Impressive!" and Rose tilted to give him a saucy wink. It was her undoing. The next thing she knew, she was sprawled in the grass. Or rather, she was sprawled on the Doctor, who was sprawled on the grass. Also, her leg hurt like hell.

"Wha?" she questioned.

The Doctor frowned up at her. "Sorry, shoulda been faster."

He'd moved to catch her, she supposed. She smiled at him and warmth spread through her. His eyes were all over her again, and Rose wondered if they were back to flirting now or if this was something even better. "Thanks," she murmured.

"You're bleedin'," he answered, all business. "Need to get you patched up."

"But..." she protested.

The Doctor didn't listen, just scooped her to her feet and turned to cut through the ambling crowds. She didn't know why it was so urgent to him, she'd gotten banged up worse than this falling over on landings. Hadn't she?

She looked down at her leg. Her jeans had a broad rip in them and the edges of the tear were bright red. OK, so the TARDIS had never mangled her clothes, even if She did make them disappear periodically. Also, if you ended up getting cut on the TARDIS, it cleared up quickly, and this wasn't going away.

Rose felt a slow, itchy trickle of something damp on her leg and remembered that sensation from growing up. She felt like laughing, really, mostly at herself. When she was small, she'd several times tried to impress someone she loved and wound up getting hurt instead. (Nearly brained herself once, her mum said, practicing for the competition when she'd got the bronze.) Had she never changed at all?

Rose didn't have time to consider it, though, because she tried to put weight on her knee and it tried to collapse out from under her. She bit her lip over a yelp of pain, but some of the noise came out anyway, along with a sudden rush of tears streaming from her eyes. "Doctor," she croaked.

The sonic screwdriver was whirring and the Doctor was muttering quietly under his breath. Rose was in his arms in a heart beat, no idea how he'd managed it; she didn't think of herself as particularly light weight.

They were just playing, Rose thought fretfully. They'd not done a single life-threatening thing all day, and now she had a hole in her new jeans and a massive dent in her pride and she didn't even know where they were going. "Doctor, it's not serious," she insisted.

The Time Lord met her eyes with thunder in his. "Ya weren't s'posed to get hurt at all, here, today," he insisted.

Rose chuckled. "S'a hobby I have," she told him, "doin' stuff I'm not s'posed to do. Not s'posed to get bruises on my knees, or stuck in a cellar in Cardiff, or into a car with a stranger - never mind a spaceship."

The Doctor gave her a wobbly smile. "You'll never find someone stranger'n me to go with, anyway."

"Truer words were never spoken," Rose asserted devoutly.

The Doctor's arms around her felt so nice, but her knee hurt so badly, she just couldn't get comfortable. It was especially awkward when he had to shift her as he walked so he could see where they were going and not end up stuck in the same situation. He seemed to be trying his level best to be careful with her, but it was painful to the point of tears for her, all the same. Rose closed her eyes to try not to think about the throbbing pounding in her knee and the dizzying sensation of being held so close to the Doctor.

She really wished she was imagining the pain in her knee so she could enjoy the... well, the nearly painful pounding of her heart. He smelled of leather and time, wool, and mysteries, and she just wanted to bury her face in his neck and maybe give it a nip or two while she was at it. It was kind of ridiculous to be fantasizing about him under the circumstances but honestly, it made a weird and wonderful sort of sense.

Normally, they were too busy running for their lives, or too exhausted from having run for their lives. It was very rare for them to have the time together that wasn't full of noise and chaos and other people. It reminded her of dancing in the hospital basement in 1941. There was a war on, and people getting turned into zombies, and his jealousy, and her shock that she still hadn't found time to fully analyze. But it was a quiet moment, there was music, and so Rose Tyler and the Doctor danced.

Well, they attempted to do. Jack had interrupted that time. Rose swore silently to herself in the name of her bruises that no matter what happened, if she ever had another chance like that, nothing was going to interrupt.

She opened her eyes to realize they'd stopped moving. An unfamiliar voice was saying, "Bring her in here."

The voice, for all that it was strange, was older and reassuring and reminded Rose of her mum. She opened her eyes to consider the woman and realized they were back at some medical tent for the Great Fair. The woman wore all white except for the strange pink cap that designated the medical people here. Rose made a mental note to ask the Doctor if it had anything to do with mauve.

"D'you have anything I can give her for the pain?" he asked.

"Nothing that won't make her loopy," the older lady replied, so business-like she almost sounded cross. "And we're out of ice packs at this station."

"Frozen veggies?" Rose asked cheerfully. The woman really reminded Rose of Jackie. "S'what my mum used to do at home."

The woman smiled at Rose and pointed at a curtained off area, apparently directing the Doctor. "I was just thinking that exact thing, dearie," the woman said. She pointed at a narrow, low, but comfortable looking little bed.

The Doctor lowered Rose gently, being careful of her injured leg. Rose immediately felt cold and bereft. It was like going from absolute safety to being stuck in the middle of a war zone. Not that Rose wouldn't have felt absolutely safe even in the war zone if the Doctor was hoping her. He gave her a wobbly, guilty smile, which Rose knew she'd have to take some time to soothe, and stepped back to let the dark haired, dark-skinned old woman take a look. Rose heard the sonic screwdriver being discretely whirred, but didn't worry.

The woman bustled over Rose with chirruping instruments and funny bits and bobs that were nothing like the quick indifference of the NHS back home, or the alien beauty of the TARDIS med-bay. "Now, don't you worry, we'll have you right as rain in no time." She turned an imperious expression on the Doctor, looking down on him for all that she had to look up nearly half a mile to do it. "You, young man. Go next door to that Arvid what-sits. Tell 'em Grandola said give you whatever he's got frozen so we can fix your young lady up."

The Doctor rolled his eyes but, much to Rose's amazement, gave not even a token protest. He didn't even mutter "stupid apes" as he made a bee-line straight for the door they'd apparently come through.

Rose was starting to worry about him.

"Now, don't do that, dearie," said Grandola, patting Rose lightly on her good knee. "Here, let me help you get changed into something so's we can look at that leg of yours. Can't ice it through this... what is this fabric, anyway, child?"

"Denim," Rose said.

"Well, when I was your age, I admit I wore inappropriate clothes, myself, but this... you really need to reconsider, child." The woman grinned almost wickedly when Rose couldn't help rolling her eyes. Grandola looked nothing whatever like Jackie, but the resemblance was so uncanny as to be unbelievable. "Now, lets get them off you before your young man gets back. He looked to be having enough problems already."

Rose absolutely could not help it when she started to giggle.


	2. Chapter 2

_The Enigma Variations was a piece of music based around a single, unknown, theme. Likewise, this collection of stories have the same theme, and each story is based closely on a song. The difference is that you know the theme; what you don't know is the song. The stories can come from anywhere, have any rating, any characters, any adventure. Feel free to try to guess the song; I'll be glad to tell you if you get it. Clues are embedded in the work. Also, feel free to suggest songs. I'll be glad to try them and see what happens. _

**

* * *

****Handstands**

_Part 2:_

"She called you my young man," Rose teased lightly. The Doctor only grunted in response to this, as he was bent over something on the nearby counter, his attention completely focused on his project.

"I figured you woulda told her off," Rose added, reaching down to readjust the plastic bag on her knee. The Doctor had brought it back over an hour ago, wrapped it in a large, brightly colored handkerchief he'd pulled from a pocket, and situated it where her bruises were worst.

Still, the Time Lord said nothing. He'd already taken off his jacket, and had his sleeves rolled up on his jumper. It was hot as hell in the little medical tent, even under the ventilating fan they'd turned on for Rose.

She wondered how she'd not noticed the heat before. She could definitely feel it now. "My strawberries are melting," Rose observed. "Can feel the juice running down my leg."

Something broke on the counter the Doctor was working at and he swore quietly, but otherwise said nothing. Rose was reasonably certain he was completely concentrated on what he was doing. "You look practically naked without your jacket," she said. She figured if the Doctor was going to pay attention to her, he'd notice when she mentioned nudity.

No joy. She grinned. "Gorgeous, of course, but I s'pose most gorgeous people look all the more gorgeous with less clothes, right?"

Either he was ignoring her, or he was letting her make a fool of herself so that he could make fun of her later. Bother not knowing which. "You could talk to me, you know," Rose said, crossly, trying to sit up.

When the pain from wrenching her knee again hit her, Rose yelped loudly. She swore and her vision swam with tears she tried to stop, along with the gasping, startled breaths that didn't want to go into her lungs right.

By the time she got her vision clear and normal air back in her lungs, the Doctor had somehow materialized sitting beside her on the thin cot, supporting her back with his (absolutely yummy) body. His chest felt marvelous and so strong, Rose couldn't help but sink into him, grateful for the comfort and falling harder with every breath.

The Doctor's arm wrapped round her, his hand on her stomach stroking soothingly through the soft hospital gown... or it would be soothingly if her hormones were under any sort of control. "Here," he murmured, offering a small glass of murky, bluish goo that he held in his other hand. "Drink this. It's a pain killer, should cut out most of that. You'll not be runnin' any marathons, but just movin' about should quit hurtin', anyway."

"You made this?" Rose asked dubiously. She wasn't doubting his skills, really, just wasn't sure what he'd want her to do right now. It was probably a knock-out drug, knowing him. For all that he complained about how much she slept, he also prescribed it as a cure for almost everything that affected her.

"It's just a very mild pain killer. Everything this lot have'll make you loopy or just disagree with you altogether. It's not even a very good one." He sounded sheepish and apologetic.

Rose took the glass and drained it off as fast as she could. She regretted it almost instantly. The stuff had the consistency and flavor that Rose had once imagined you'd get from nine day old peas porridge like in the nursery rhyme. "Nasty!" she exclaimed, and knew she was making a horrified face. "Yuck, nasty, icky taste, bah, gah, ugh!"

The Doctor was laughing at her. Rose turned toward him with her tongue poking out of her mouth quite a bit more than usual. "Water?" she begged, and went back to trying to get her tongue to fall off so it couldn't taste anymore.

"Can't chase it yet," the Doctor apologized. "It'll clash with the medicine."

"Nasty, disgusting medicine!" Rose complained. "Seriously, Doctor, you made it this bad on purpose."

The Doctor chuckled and squeezed her tighter. "'Course I did," he said. "Wouldn't do for you to like it. Ya might decide to get hurt more often or somethin', and that's never good for my hearts."

"Sure your hearts're stronger than that. You'n Jack went base jumping off skyscrapers yesterday. Thought I was gonna have a heart attack."

The Doctor grinned. "Couldn't let him go by himself, he'd've gotten killed tryin' to seduce his parachute or something."

Rose reached down to where the strawberry juice was leaking out of the bag and decorating her knee and swiped up some of the liquid with a finger. She popped the finger into her mouth and sucked on it, then turned over her shoulder again to see the Doctor looking at her very, very strangely. "What?" she said.

"That can't be good for you," he said in a hoarse sounding tone.

"Well, you cleaned my knee before you put this thing on me, and I've taken that foul medicine which will probably kill anything smaller than a bird that comes near me. Figure I'm fine." She swiped up the rest of the juice trail and stuck it in her mouth. "Besides, I've eaten Mum's cooking since I was little; I'm pretty much immune to anything."

"Don't talk with your mouth full," the Doctor suggested, his voice still strange and soft.

Rose turned her head to make a face at him, but he was looking over her shoulder and down at the bag of previously frozen strawberries. "Why not?" she asked instead.

The Doctor took the bag of strawberries off her knee and turned it over in his hand, trying to find the leak, apparently. He ended up dropping the bag on the floor next to them when a turn just the right way resulted in a flood of juice pouring out over his fingers. Rose watched him react with normal surprised disgust at first, shaking his hand to get most of the juice off, looking around for something to wipe it on.

If anyone asked Rose why, she would have blamed it on the taste still in her mouth from the medicine, because now it tasted like old porridge and strawberries instead of just old porridge. So, she considered that the perfect excuse when she caught the Doctor's hand, brought it close, and licked the trail of juice off the back of his hand.

There was something in his eyes, something sweet and bright and dangerous, something that felt like an invitation. Rose lifted the hand she held so loosely, the one he still hadn't drawn away from her, and brought it back toward her lips.

The Doctor finally drew his hand away, looking at her warily, his expression closed off. Somehow, Rose could swear she could see through his mask. She could swear she saw hunger there, the same hunger she thought she'd seen when they were almost dancing together in a small, dark basement, the same hunger she felt every time she had a moment to think. Maybe she wasn't alone with these emotions, after all. Maybe…

The Doctor stuck his fingers into his mouth, sucking the juice off and making Rose want more than anything to see what strawberry juice tasted like served on thin, firm, kissable looking lips. When he took his fingers from his mouth, he shrugged one shoulder, smiling a strange smile. "Not too bad," he said.

Rose decided to take it as an invitation. She took his hand again, drew it to her mouth, and snaked her tongue across the palm. Already, she was imagining what those cool, calloused hands would feel like on her skin.

The Doctor shivered as she touched him, and gasped at the intimate gesture. He didn't pull away, though, and Rose turned her head to smile at him, offering her lips, offering everything.

"Rose," he said, as if he just needed to say her name. His breathing was different, faster and shallower and Rose grinned to know she was affecting him like he affected her. Then, he shook his head. "Right. The painkiller shouldn'ta done this to you."

Rose didn't have time to be properly incredulous, because the Doctor stood up then, and she toppled back to the pillows, confused and as unhappy as she could ever remember being. "That medicine didn't do this," she protested. (She'd blame the drug later if this blew itself to hell, though.) "I just thought..."

"You thought what?" he asked sadly. He shook his head. "Never mind, Rose. It's hot an' you're hurt, an' I'm not thinking' straight an' neither are you. I'll get you back to the TARDIS in the morning, you just close your eyes and rest."

Rose sighed and closed her eyes and couldn't get his disturbed, defeated expression out of her mind to save her life. She tried to sleep. It didn't happen. She tried to turn. Her knee tugged and she realized she wasn't going anywhere. She tried to make the body buzz she was feeling at the ideas that went tumbling through her head go away.  
_  
His hand, that hand, the one she held, the fingers she had kissed, the palm she had licked… Wrapped around his cock, hard and aching, tantalizing, wanting… Pumping hard, clenching tight, stroking sharply, again and again… His body taut, his movements fierce, reluctant… Desire and a genius's imagination, all turned to one goal, to need, to satisfying an insatiable hunger… Stroking harder, faster, nearly painful, nearly punishing… Breaths so sharp as to be audible… A single sweat drop telling the secret truth, sliding drop his face, tracing those chiseled lines so perfect that no sculptor could duplicate them… The drop slides lower, kisses the edge of his lips, rolls along the tightened jaw… One stroke more… Two… The droplet falls… His body erupts in release, but the only other sign he gives is a name, one word, falling from his lips…_

Rose...

Her eyes flew open. Right. That wasn't a good thing to think about when you were trying to sleep and trying to behave yourself. It wasn't a good thing to think when the object of your desire was pacing at the end of your bed, looking disturbed and furious about something, looking fierce and hungry and with his hands clenched into angry fists. She thought he would be more comfortable without his jumper.

Biting her lip to keep from groaning aloud at that thought, Rose closed her eyes again and tried to think about something innocuous. That was a good idea. Something harmless, like being black and blue as usual. Or being painted blue, that would be funny. Some planet somewhere out there had to exist where everyone worshipped the TARDIS and it was custom to wear a bit of TARDIS blue paint in tribute. Maybe there would be only one way to get it off, and it had to come off, because Rose Tyler was not going to be permanently blue, not even for the Doctor.

_…Lips moving along your skin, teeth grazing, tongue soft and raspy and wet… Stretching languorously, like a cat, beneath the feel of liquid warmth spreading over your body… Every nerve beginning to tingle, that gifted mouth bringing every single center of pleasure and need to aching, tantalizing, wanting life… Trying to fight it, to pretend like it isn't affecting you, like he isn't affecting you, like you don't want him like you want morning when the night's too long to miss him… His tongue circles a nipple, teases, taunts, raising the peak and your spine as you arch toward him… More, there must be more, more touch, more taste, more reciprocation… You reach for him and he chuckles and for a moment it hurts to think he sees only a game, but then you realize what you are feeling, pressed hard and moving rhythmically against you… He wants you as much as you want him and you gasp, your eyes flying up to meet his, indigo and black and longing, and he slides a hand between your thighs as if to distract you… All you want now, all you will ever want again is him, him inside you, him around you, him above you, beneath you, behind you, before you, him, torturing you with his kisses, pleasuring you with his fierce desire… Him, now, to please just please let you help you make you…_

"Fuck!" Rose growled and sat up.


	3. Chapter 3

_The Enigma Variations was a piece of music based around a single, unknown, theme. Likewise, this collection of stories have the same theme, and each story is based closely on a song. The difference is that you know the theme; what you don't know is the song. The stories can come from anywhere, have any rating, any characters, any adventure. Feel free to try to guess the song; I'll be glad to tell you if you get it. Clues are embedded in the work. Also, feel free to suggest songs. I'll be glad to try them and see what happens. _

**

* * *

****Handstands**  
_Part 3_

"Language, Miss Tyler," the Doctor chided with an amused twinkle in his eye. Rose groaned in irritation and flopped back on her pillow. Was it too much to ask he not be there when she wanted nothing more than to drag him down to her level and have her wicked way with him?

The Doctor appeared by her side, a sympathetic anxiety radiating from him. "'M sorry," he muttered. "Does it hurt too much to sleep?" He sat down beside her and put a gentle hand on her thigh, just above the injured knee, and Rose sat there trying to force herself not to vibrate at him.

The Doctor rearranged them carefully so that Rose was cradled against his chest. Rose bet he wouldn't do that if he knew what she was thinking. Then, she had to concentrate on just breathing as his long fingers stroked soothingly through her hair.

"What?" she said, some minutes later. The Doctor had said something but she'd not noticed what it was. She was lost in the bliss of having his hands on her so tenderly.

"Is the pain any better?" the Doctor repeated, his fingers stilling against her scalp. "Is this helping at all?"

"No...yes," she corrected hastily when he seemed about to draw his fingers away from her. "It feels fantastic," she said. "Thanks. I'm not in pain, though, not really. I've just got too much on my mind."

"Oh?" the Doctor questioned. "Well, why don't you tell me? It might help."

Nonononono. "Doubt it," Rose replied flippantly. Then, because he seemed about to move away again, she added, "It's a bit domestic, really." She didn't want him to leave, but she didn't dare let him know what was really on her mind.

The Doctor chuckled deep in his chest. "That's never stopped you before," he said. "Ya made me pick out your nail polish last week."

"I thought they might have a thing about color," she apologized, blushing.

The Doctor just gave her a little squeeze, and Rose relaxed against him, letting the tension in her body leak out even though she still felt like she was going to set him on fire any second. They sat in silence for some long minutes and then the Doctor said, "Ya know, I might can help. Nine hundred years old. Most people think that's old enough ta be wise."

Rose chuckled. "Yeah, well, they don't know you like I do," she said.

"Oi," the Doctor protested, sounding stern and playful at once, "I'll have you know..."

"London Eye," Rose sing-songed softly by way of interruption.

The Time Lord shook his head. Rose could feel it against her hair. "I blame the time traveling," he claimed. "That, and..."

"'Tryin' to save a buncha stupid apes...'" Rose mocked.

"I see what this is," the Doctor said. "Is it pick on the Doctor night, then?"

"When isn't it?" Rose asked, and turned her head to look up at him. He was so close. She didn't blink. She didn't pounce on him, either. She was rather proud of that.

"I get it. I look after you, patch you up when ya manage to get all black an' blue an' beat up, an' how'd'ya pay me back?"

Rose couldn't resist her usual grin, she really couldn't, even if it put her tongue so close to his mouth that she could practically taste the strawberries on his breath. "I got a hole in my new jeans, you know," she said.

"Yeah, well..." The Doctor blinked, then licked his lip. Rose's eyes fixated on that, then flashed back to his eyes that were getting darker with every heart beat. "Thanks to you, I taste like frozen strawberries."

"Do you?" Rose wondered. If that was all the hint of an invite she was going to get, she was going to have to go with it. "Let me try." Her arm snaked back behind his head, fingers curling into the soft, short, tickly hair at his nape. It didn't require the slightest amount of force, however. She just tilted her head back.

The Doctor closed the distance between them. Rose was absolutely certain of that, just as she was certain that he kissed her deeply and with a passion that convinced her this was hardly new for him, either. He might not have wanted her as long as she'd wanted him, but he'd been bottling it up for awhile.

She could tell because his kiss wasn't just a kiss. He nipped at her lower lip, and she willingly opened for him, letting her tongue flick out to taste him, steal his breath, tease his lips. The Doctor reciprocated, brushing at her lips, her tongue, chasing it back into her mouth. He seemed to worship her mouth, taking an obvious delight in deep, heavy kissing, holding her jaw cupped in his hand, the other hand resting tenderly on her thigh. Rose realized he was trying to protect her, even in something like this, and she felt her heart clench with love for him.

This wasn't the sort of kiss that left questions in its wake. This was the intense, thorough sort of kiss that answered questions with every stroke and breath and touch that came with it. This kind of kiss didn't lead to frustration, it led to bodies entwined, hot and naked, writhing in sweat soaked sheets.

"I shouldn't," the Doctor murmured. "I really, really shouldn't."

"Why?" Rose wanted to know. "'Cuz we're so close? We live together? What? 'Cuz those sound like good reasons to do it, to me. This isn't the medicine, you know it's not." She paused and chewed at her lip, smiling as she noticed the Doctor watching the gesture with complete and obvious hunger. "It's not something to do with you being... I mean, we're compatible, right?"

The Doctor looked at her carefully, then took the hand Rose wasn't using to support herself as she leaned against him. He lifted it to kiss, then lowered it slowly, until he was able to easily suggest a new location for it. Since Rose had rather wondered for awhile, and since she was enjoying this very much, she slipped her hand closer willingly, even excitedly.

Touching the Doctor so intimately sent a shock of arousal through her already tortured system and Rose couldn't stop herself moaning out loud. The Doctor answered the sound with a deep, hungry groan of his own. "That feel compatible enough?" he asked rhetorically.

Rose let her hand continue with the explorations. The Doctor had to be uncomfortable, this hard and getting harder. "Feels nice," she said. It did. As near as she could tell through denim, he had a good long length, a nice thick girth, just a bit of a fantasy man, but wasn't that just like him. She tucked her hand in the pocket of his jeans, so she could get a little closer. (Though she was a little surprised they were normal pockets, actually.)

The Doctor trembled at the light, teasing contact. "It does feel nice," he said. "But you're not feelin' well, an' I'd hate ta..." He gasped as she found a new angle and squeezed him tightly. "Hurt you..."

Rose stared at him. "You couldn't hurt me, Doctor. We'll be careful, yeah?" She decided she'd better get canny before the Doctor decided to view that last as a reason not to do anything he so obviously wanted to do. She was burning alive for him. "Endorphins," she murmured in the sexiest tone she could have ever imagined using. She'd never actually tried it before, but thought it sounded pretty good all things considered.

"I don't deserve you," the Doctor said, his eyes bright as he leaned over her. As he turned his head to nip at Rose's ear, and also raised his hand from her thigh to thumb roughly at her nipple, Rose doubted he was completely serious.

Rose's back bowed, bringing her already pebbled nipples into his easier reach. "Yeah, don't deserve you, either," she said absently. "Kiss me."

The Doctor chuckled darkly. "Precious girl," he said, shifting away from her. "Lie back," he murmured, guiding her by her shoulders.

Rose, caught in the spell of his voice and his eyes, complied easily, careful of her bruises as she settled back into the pillows again. "Now kiss me," she ordered.

"Patience." The Doctor stood and flipped the sonic screwdriver at something Rose couldn't see. The result she could see as the air a little bit past the bed seemed to sparkled. "Privacy curtain," the Doctor explained at her questioning look. He was removing his boots as he said this, and Rose wondered how far he'd go in this little strip tease for her.

She watched avidly, all the same, not even bothering to pretend less than total fascination as the leather jacket was draped over a chair. The olive jumper followed it and Rose licked her lips. She felt a nearly painful need to get a taste of his tiny, dark nipples, to place a kiss at his navel, just above the top button of his jeans. The Doctor made an adjustment there and a look of relief appeared on his face. Rose whimpered.

"Problem, love?" the Doctor asked.

"You're over there," she pouted. "I wanna kiss you."

"Hmmm. I wanna kiss you too, taste you everywhere." He grinned wickedly, then reached to trace a single long finger along her thigh, still covered, too much in Rose's opinion, by the little hospital gown she'd been put into earlier. "Bet you taste good, Rose Tyler."

His finger moved ever closer to where she needed him. Rose's hips had absolutely no objection to arching toward him. "Doctor," she pleaded.

"Yes, love?"

"Want you."

"I know, love. I want you, too." He leaned over and kissed her again, at last, this time with tenderness that was so sweet it made her burn. Rose reached for him, running her hands everywhere she could reach.

"You know, this isn't anything like I figured it'd be," Rose said when the Doctor broke the kiss this time. He was busily tracing a trail down her jaw with tiny licks and occasional nips, but her words stopped him cold.

"Not sure whether to be glad you thought this could happen or sorry it's not like you wan..."

Rose cut off the Doctor's worries by reaching up and tugging open his belt buckle. "I sorta figured it'd be something we'd regret somehow. Or at least you. I mean..."

The Doctor went back to kissing, this time letting his mouth drop to the jutting peak of Rose's closest nipple. She gasped as he sucked it through the fabric, then writhed when he nipped sharply at the little pearl. He teased it with his tongue, a strange sensation with rough fabric in the way. By the time he stopped, Rose had forgotten what the Doctor had nipped her for in the first place.

"No regrets, Rose," he said. He seemed to be making a statement, but there was a question in it, as well.

"Not from me," she said firmly, toying with the buttons on his jeans and smirking as she watched him watch her hand. "You sure, come tomorrow, you won't be calling this a mistake and..."

"Come tomorrow, that knee o' yours will be back in the TARDIS, meanin' fixed, and I'll shag you against a bulkhead." He paused when she paused at that statement. "That is, if it's ok..."

The reason Rose had paused was because her insides had turned to boiling jelly and she'd had to catch her breath and her equilibrium - they'd melted. "Fine, but I hope that's not stopping you now."

"Not unless you want..."

"I don't ever want to stop, thanks," Rose said with a determined grin. She reached down and tugged her hospital gown up higher on her thighs. The Doctor's eyes followed her hands, so she raised it slowly. "I'm naked under this thing, you know. And getting sorta lonely down here." The gown was now only covering her modesty by accident, and Rose sat there, toying with the edge.

"Think I said somethin' about tasting you," the Doctor commented.

Rose shivered. His voice... just..._ sin_.

The Doctor's hand covered Rose's much smaller one. She watched, fascinated, as he guided her hands up under the gown, slid her fingers the last few millimeters to the center of her heat, where she was already wet and practically dripping for him. He pushed her fingers close enough, then his eyes shifted from their hidden hands to her widened eyes. Under the gown, his fingers teased her curls, gathering wetness.

The Doctor's smirk was gorgeous and probably the most filthy expression Rose had ever seen on his face. Her hand moved of its own accord, her fingertip tracing the risen bud of her clit. "Lovely," he decided. "Already all lovely and wet for me. I like it."

He stopped what he was doing and Rose screeched protest. The Doctor gave a wicked chuckle and stuck his fingers into his mouth. Rose watched him, couldn't not watch him. Wasn't she supposed to be modest or shy or something? Sex with an alien, right? Supposed to be worried?

She couldn't manage it. "Oh, god," she murmured, unable to keep a coherent train of thought as the Doctor's hand dipped under her gown for another go. "Just... let me... want you so much."

The Doctor just nodded this time and watched her intently as she writhed under his touch. "Rose," he murmured, but whether it was to get her attention or just to say her name, she didn't know.

"God," she breathed. When he pulled away from her again, stopping to tease her nipples with those same skilled fingers, she went back to touching herself. "You do this to me all the time."

The Doctor smirked and jerked open the buttons of his jeans. "Yeah, well, we're prob'ly even, then." He took out his cock and Rose immediately needed him inside her. His hand traced the rigid length gently once, then wrapped a fist around it. Rose watched in awe as his eyes batted closed, his breath came in short gasps, and his hand described a nearly punishing trip up and down his length, exactly as she'd imagined it.

It was even, if she remembered (and she did) the strawberry covered hand he was using. "Doctor, can I..." She broke off when his eyes snapped open again and flashed to her, hungry and nearly feral.

"Need you now," he said softly. "We can always come back to that."

Rose was perfectly happy to go with that course, delighted with it in fact. She just wasn't sure how they were going to do this in this tiny, narrow bed with one member of the couple unable to move her knee.

"Stay still," the Doctor said, then reached for her. Careful maneuvering turned Rose onto her side, the still aching knee protected from taking any of her weight. The Doctor lay down behind her, flipping the tails of her back-tying gown up over her waist. He was pressed tightly and intimately to her, his erection hot and heavy against her bum.

Quite used to the Doctor narrating wars and disasters and random histories of buildings he was about to blow up, Rose wasn't exactly surprised to find him narrating this, either. In fact, she could honestly say that it was quite the most sensual commentary he'd ever done.

"This position's s'posed to be the most intimate," he said. He started kissing the back of her neck, and trailed his hands over her waist, under the gown. Rose pressed back against him, careful not to move her legs, even though all of her instinct was telling her to do it.

Against her ear, punctuated by nips and licks, he continued his dark, sensual whisper. "S'posed to be slow an' comfortable an' make us both last awhile." His lower hand went up to tease her breasts. The completely free hand slipped down between her thighs again, holding her and tormenting her hard little clit at the same time. "Can get to know your body like this."

The Doctor readjusted his position and, with the help of a wriggling, whimpering Rose, slid inside her. Rose gasped. "Plus, you can feel everything so deep like this, can't you?"

Rose groaned and flexed her hips back into the Doctor's body. He felt enormous. She was so wet from fantasizing and foreplay that she was nearly dripping, but in this position, the Doctor's girth was still very nearly too much. She snaked a hand back over his and clutched at the Doctor's hip.

She wanted to open her legs wide and let him pound her into the mattress. She wanted to turn around and ride him until they were both unconscious. She wanted to keep doing what they were doing right this instant, and never, never stop. "You're... good at... mmm... this."

The Doctor's smirk was obvious in his voice and against the skin at her nape. "You feel so good," he whispered. His rhythm was slow and gentle, moving him within her body only the barest amount. Still, it gave them the friction they needed, and then the Doctor started pressing slow circles against her clit with his thumb. "Rose, you can't know... so good!"

Rose was reduced to soft moans in reply, and then she started whispering his name. "Doctor," she gasped, in time to his subtle movements. She found she couldn't stop saying his name, didn't want to stop.

"Yes Rose," he answered her. "Oh, yes, Rose, say my name. Precious girl, d'you like this?"

Rose was losing coherence, and knew good and well that all she was managing was a steady string of "yes yes yes," in time to the cadence of his circling fingers. She was reaching the boiling point, so desperate and hot and full that this slow, comfortable thing just wasn't going to hold her back much longer. "Harder," she begged, "please, want to come, please, Doctor, I need..."

His quiet commentary didn't falter. "Tight, hot... yes, love, soon. Soon, Rose, promise. Stay like this..." He groaned, long and low, and picked up the pace of his fingers. Moments passed, the coiling, boiling, seething tightness inside her building and building to painful need, all the while decorated by the dark timbre of the Doctor's erotic whisper.

"Now, Rose. Come for me, now, Rose. Come..."

Rose couldn't help doing as she was told, couldn't have stopped, didn't want to stop, not at all, not ever, ever again. Everything built and built and then suddenly collapsed under the weight of pleasure. Her internal muscles clenched and grasped, her body shook, her mind imploded.

The Doctor pulled out of her, and Rose could feel it against her bum as he stroked himself, hard and rapidly. He nipped at her shoulder, then seemed to stop himself. With a quiet sound almost like a sob of relief, he decorated her backside with long, chill rivulets of a slightly different texture than she was used to.

For several long moments, there was silence as Rose tried to make the shaking planet hold still underneath her. Finally, she gave up. "So, um. The Universe imploded, I think."

The Doctor gave a merry, full-voiced laugh, as mad as he was, as happy as Rose felt. "Think so, yeah." She felt rather than saw the brilliant grin. "Told you I had the moves."

* * *

"I am completely in love with that woman," Jack proclaimed grandly from the driver's seat of the small cart. "I'm going back and seducing her, as soon as I drop you two off, of course." He touched a small button and the electric horse-like things pulling the cart sang out a strange but happy cry.

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "She's a bit old for you, lad," he said. Grinning, he added. "Grandola's prob'ly a bit old for me." Rose, who was cuddled up to the Doctor and swathed in blankets, pillows, and his coat in an attempt to keep her warm and from getting bruised again, just laughed.

"I don't care!" Jack announced in a voice so boisterous, the whole crowd could probably hear him. It was high noon here on Vardana V, and the Great Fair was in full swing for the day. People stayed off the cart path, but that didn't stop them running up beside Jack and cheering him on. "Age is of no importance in matters of the heart, Doc." He turned his head to look at the two – or more to the point, their hands clasped at about Rose's waist. "You know that."

"If he doesn't, he oughtta by now," Rose agreed. Jack didn't think there was anything new about them. He'd thought the Doctor and Rose were together from before he'd met them, and had finally made up or something. Rose wasn't sure he even believed they'd been fighting, actually. He'd just always assumed they were together, and Rose had never corrected him. Obviously, the Doctor hadn't either.

"You go back and talk to her, lad," the Doctor said, humoring Jack. "She'll prob'ly be happy ta marry you. Mind, I think ya have ta be completely faithful to her an', if I remember, they reinforce that with some sort of biochemical…"

"Never mind," Jack said immediately.

"You sure?" the Doctor said. "Could give you a cocktail back on the TARDIS that'd let her know you've come courtin'…"

"No, really, it's fine," Jack insisted urgently. "Had this friend got into that exact same trouble once. It wasn't pretty."

"It's no bother, Jack, really. I understand that…"

Rose couldn't help laughing. The Doctor was obviously not going to let Jack off the hook any time soon, and it was pretty funny to watch him. Jack's posture was hunched over the controls for the cart now (and wasn't it the weirdest thing ever, this cart?) and she knew he was trying to think of a way to change the subject.

"How'd you end up like this, anyway, Rosie?" he questioned.

Rose shook her head. "Trying to do handstands," she admitted. "I fell on the Doctor."

Jack seemed to think about that for several long moments. Rose smiled because she didn't think she'd left him any more openings to tease her.

Then again, he was Jack. "Handstands for sex was in the original Kama Sutra, you know," he observed. "Considered a bit advanced, but not impossible…"

"Not sure what you're getting at," the Doctor said. "There's also a position for a woman suspending herself from a door frame, which is considered advanced, so…"

Whatever Jack had been on about, the Doctor's statement had completely derailed him. "Is there really?" he demanded in an awed tone of voice, just as they finally reached the TARDIS.

The Doctor shrugged. "There's an old copy in the library," he said. "Help yourself."

"You gonna take the cart back?"

"It'll go back on it's own," said the Doctor. "Electric horses have electric brains." He gathered Rose up and carefully took her to the TARDIS. "Just push the green button on that panel in the middle."

Jack took care of that while the Doctor carried Rose inside. "Is there really a sexual position that involves handstands?" Rose wondered.

"Couple of 'em," the Doctor said, grinning merry wickedness. "Why? You wanna try it?"

Rose laughed. "Might end up black and blue again," she said happily, "but at least that way I won't get holes in any more jeans."


End file.
